


Destiny. What a joke

by frostykneecaps



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Character Development, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fate & Destiny, First Kiss, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Kinda, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Obliviousness, Self-Pity, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Unrequited Love, jaskier’s pov, no beta we die like men, yes cliche i know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-02-23 08:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23475484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frostykneecaps/pseuds/frostykneecaps
Summary: It has been six months since that fateful day on the mountain. Jaskier has moved on, but one day a familiar face shows up.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 5
Kudos: 47





	Destiny. What a joke

Jaskier stared in shock at the looming figure in the doorway. Heart clenching painfully he was dragged back to the mountain, the dragon, being sent away like he meant nothing.

“Hello Jaskier.”

“Go away Geralt.”

Geralt scrunched up his face strangely in a way Jaskier hoped was guilt. “I mean it fuck off Geralt.” Jaskier snapped. He had had enough of the stoic witcher. Jaskier could handle the long stretches of silence, the noncommittal grunts, and the insults but what Geralt did on the mountain, blaming him for every shitty thing that happened to him, that was more than Jaskier could handle. And so Jaskier basked in Geralt’s discomfort, refusing to meet his eye and enjoying the witchers fumbling attempts to say something. However, Jaskier began to find Geralt boring and returned to plucking at his lute. There were three ways this could go, Jaskier surmised. One, Geralt gives up and leaves without saying a word, two Geralt grunts out a half hearted apology, and three Geralt does not apologise but plants his ground in the tavern, refusing to leave until Jaskier apologises to HIM. If Geralt chose three Jaskier was afraid that he would have absolutely no choice but to smash his precious lute over the great brutes skull. 

After what seemed like hours of Jaskier plucking quietly at his lute and humming under his breath, pretending that he wasn’t watching Geralt intently from the corner of his eye, Geralt let out his signature grunt and spun around ,walking out the tavern door.

Ah so number one it was. 

Jaskier tried to quell the disappointment crawling under his skin. Tried to forget how he felt hiking down that mountain alone. Humiliation, sadness, and jealousy clawing at his heart. An empty hollow ache in the pit of his stomach. Of course he lost Geralt to Yennefer. He had known what would happen deep down ever since they first met and Yennefer had coyly told Geralt she thought he’d have horns or fangs.

Turning back to his ale Jaskier resigned himself to the fact that he had lost his only friend, forever this time. But all of Jaskier’s wit and cunning seemed for naught. Perhaps the 4 mugs of ale had dulled his intuition, as Jaskier suddenly found himself in a scenario that he had not calculated for, Geralt striding back into the tavern with a small girl clutching onto his arm.

Jaskier stared in shock at the child. She was skinny with long matted blond hair and electric blue eyes that darted around nervously. Her eyes swivelled, landing on Jaskier, and gigantic grin split her face. 

“Dandelion!” she cried out in joy before leaping into his arms. People in the tavern glanced past the witcher to stare at the child responsible for disrupting the peaceful atmosphere. “Ciri!” Jaskier gasped, grinning down at her. With a grunt Jaskier gently placed her back on the floor attempting to hide the fact the he was significantly more out of breath than he was five seconds ago. 

“What are you doing here? What happened? Why haven’t you been with Geralt?” Ciri fired out bouncing energetically. “Uhhhh...” Jaskier froze overwhelmed by the sheer overload of excitement radiating from the small girl in front of him. “How about you just sit down here for a while,” he said guiding her to a table, “You look exhausted, I think you should rest for a while.” And sure enough under all the childish giddiness Ciri was projecting, Jaskier could see the weariness in her eyes, and the shakiness of her hands. “I’m going to catch up with Geralt for a while and then I’m going to order you some food. How does that sound?” Jaskier smiled reassuringly. Ciri beamed and nodded before leaning down to rest her head on the table.

Jaskier craned his neck to look at Geralt before taking a deep breath, and striding towards him. 

“So I suppose you didn’t come here to look for me huh,” Jaskier joked, attempting to disguise his disappointment. “No I did not,” Geralt said. Jaskier gave a small nod, unsure of what else to say. The silence very quickly turned awkward. Jaskier silently cursed the witcher’s emotional constipation when Geralt uttered quietly, “But I’m glad I found you.”

Jaskier lifted his head so quickly to stare at Geralt that he heard his neck crack. “Ah.” Jaskier cursed internally. “How the fuck am I supposed to respond to that??” Clearing his throat Jaskier awkwardly said, “Uhh yeah thanks.” Luckily he didn’t need to agonise over how to carry on the conversation as Geralt did it for him. “I never knew you continued to visit Cintra after Pavetta’s betrothal party.” “Yeah well someone had to check in on your child surprise every once in a while. And besides, Queen Calanthe was so taken with my singing that she absolutely had to have me perform at her parties.” Geralt grunted, “Well Ciri seems very fond of you. She never stopped asking me about you while we were travelling.” “Yes she’s such a sweet heart. Watched her grow,” Jaskier smiled fondly. But them his mood became somber. “Poor thing was so devastated when Duny and Pavetta passed.” Jaskier glanced up at Geralt, “She’s been through a lot hasn’t she?” “Like you wouldn’t believe.” “Well I’m just glad that you finally decided to claim her.” It must have been a trick of the light but Jaskier thought he saw a shadow of a smile pass over Geralt’s face. But as quickly as it appeared it was gone. 

“Well,” Jaskier exclaimed clasping his hands together, “I think this calls for a celebration, Geralt be a dear and help order us some food and ale. Uh- no ale for Ciri though,” Jaskier said fumbling through his pocket and dumping some coins into Geralts palm. “So we can stay here?” Geralt questioned, a confused look on his face. “Of course you can. But only because of Ciri,” Jaskier replied coldly before returning to Ciri, who was staring at them earnestly. Geralt grunted before walking over to the barkeep.

A stomach full of food and drinks later, they were all ready to retire after a day filled with surprises. Geralt nudged a sleepy Ciri awake and led her to their room. Jaskier trotted close behind. To Jaskier’s chagrin, he realised that Ciri and Geralt were to share a room. “Geralt she is a princess!” he gasped quietly. Geralt glanced at him in confusion. “We can’t afford to waste coin on a second room. And besides Ciri doesn’t mind.” Ciri nodded in agreement desperate to flop onto a surface of any kind to sleep. “No, Geralt you will share my room. I insist.” Geralt, upon glancing down at Ciri who was struggling to keep her eyes open, groaned and agreed, if only to spare Ciri from enduring more of Jaskier’s ridiculous antics. “Goodnight Geralt, goodnight Dandelion,” Ciri said, bidding them goodbye as she headed into her room. For some reason, Jaskier could have sworn he had seen a mischievous glint in the little girl’s eyes.

It was only when closing the door behind him had Jaskier realised the mistake he had made. He had trapped himself in a room with Geralt of fucking Rivia for a whole night. Groaning inwardly at his stupidity and his chivalrous nature, Jaskier stared at Geralt who had sat down at the foot of their bed removing his armour. Geralt looked older, Jaskier realised. He knew it was a strange statement to make considering that witchers were supposed to be immortal, but it was true. Now with every movement he made, Geralt carried a sort of heaviness about him. Jaskier assumed it was due to shouldering the responsibility of claiming Ciri , but that didn’t feel like the reason. He only realised he had been caught staring when Geralts gleaming yellow eyes met his. 

Clearing his throat awkwardly, Jaskier moved to sit at the end of the bed next to Geralt, removing his shoes and jacket, trying to ignore the fact that Geralt eyes were following him. But of course Jaskier being the idiot that he is, couldn’t help but meet Geralt’s eyes. He hadn’t taken the time to look at Geralt properly, to stare at the stubble growing on his chin, to look at his silver hair which was knitted and pulled back messily in a half ponytail, to gaze at those bright yellow eyes that looked so so tired. “I’m sorry.” Jaskier was almost too busy pining to hear Geralt say that. Jaskier stared, stricken before softly replying, “That’s not enough.” Geralt sighed in exasperation before standing up and pulling back the bedsheets preparing to crawl into bed. Jaskier immediately felt anger well up in him. “Oh there we fucking go again! This shit again! Cool yeah be mad at me for no bloody reason again even though you were the one who fucked up!” Jaskier’s voice reached a crescendo. Geralt snapped his head back to glare at Jaskier, “Well what the fuck do you want me to say huh! Do you expect me to grovel at your feet begging for forgiveness! Well guess what Jaskier I’m not a swooning maiden who will do anything to seek your love and affections!” Geralt spat. “I said those things on the mountain because they were true and you know it! If you hadn’t forced yourself into my life I would be better off!” Jaskier yelled at him, ”Fine! Then tomorrow morning you and Ciri can leave and then you’ll be rid of me for good!” before crawling into the bed, facing away from Geralt, a petulant frown on his face. “Fine," Geralt replied coldly, crawling into the bed, facing the opposite direction Jaskier did. 

If Jaskier stayed awake until the wee hours of the morning, sulking while listening to Geralt’s slow breathing next to him, he would be perfectly justified. Jaskier had a right to be upset. He had given the best years of his life to Geralt. Which, he supposed is what a lovesick maiden would moan about. But it was true. While Jaskier should have been finding a wife, getting married, having children, he had instead been with Geralt, chronicling his adventures and writing ballads about him. What had he gotten in return? Insults and quarrels and no gratitude whatsoever. Jaskier huffed. After ten years of friendship something, Geralt refused to call them friends, so how could Jaskier expect Geralt to apologise to him, and learn to appreciate him more, and learn to communicate and, love him back enjoy his singing. “Fillingless pie,” Jaskier snorted quietly.

Tired of just lying there, still as a log, Jaskier silently stood up and crept out of the room, fully aware of the fact that if he jolted Geralt awake, he could kiss his head goodbye. Strolling out the tavern, Jaskier took a deep breath taking in the crisp air when he spotted a familiar silhouette standing, just staring into the dark forest framing the tavern. “Ciri?” Jaskier chattered cursing his decision to leave his jacket behind. “Hi Dandelion,” Ciri smiled, not startled by his presence at all. “What’re you doing here?” Jaskier questioned. “Just thinking,” Ciri replied an indecipherable expression crossing her features. Jaskier nodded in understanding, rubbing his hands together to combat the chill. “I’m just glad we’re all together now. Things are gonna be so much more fun with you now, no offence to Geralt,” Ciri beamed at him. And with those words, Jaskier’s heart broke. “Ciri... “ Jaskier said gently, “I won’t be travelling with you and Geralt. You see Geralt and I, we... We had somewhat of a falling out.” Jaskier turned to face Ciri and to his alarm, saw her watery blue eyes filling with tears. “Oh... ok, I understand.” Ciri sniffled. “Well it’s late i should probably go back in,” she said before trudging back into the tavern. Jaskier cursed his sensitive soul and followed Ciri’s footsteps, returning to his room where a snoring asshole of a witcher awaited him.

The sun, being the complete arse it was, took no care for Jaskier’s sleep deprived state and felt free to glare its rays into Jaskier’s eyes, rousing him rather rudely. Jaskier groaned, shifting. He winced as his back twinged painfully, a product of spending the few hours of sleep he had, curled up uncomfortably in the hard, rickety wooden chair in the corner of the room. Jaskier yawned, roughly trying the rub the sleep out of his eyes when a metallic clang caught his attention. 

Geralt grunted as he put the remainder of his armour on. Unlike the night before, Geralt seemed very reluctant to meet Jaskier’s gaze. As he finished putting his armour on, he strode around the room collecting the few belongings he had left before steadily walking to the door. 

“Geralt wait.”

Geralt paused, his hand on the door knob. He turned his head around, meeting Jaskier’s eyes. “I have made the decision to travel with you. For Ciri’s sake of course. She needs all the protection she can get,” Jaskier declared. “If... that’s alright with you of course,” Jaskier asked, losing some of his bravado. Geralt was silent for a moment, and Jaskier was ready to make a dramatic speech about how Geralt shouldn’t let their personal problems detract from Ciri’s safety. But surely enough, Geralt grunted, and nodded. “Pack up your stuff. We’ll meet you outside in five minutes.” As Geralt turned around and walked out the door, Jaskier thought he caught a flash of a smile. A strange feeling arose in his gut. He reassured himself it was probably indigestion.

Jaskier walked out of the tavern stringing his lute across his shoulders. He was immediately met by a very happy Ciri who drew him into a tight hug, whispering conspiratorially into his ear, “Don’t worry Dandelion, you won’t even have to talk to Geralt. You and I could spend time together and maybe you could even teach me to play the lute!” Jaskier drew back and beamed at Ciri, “Nothing could be give me more joy Ciri.” She returned his smile before they both walked up to Geralt, who was stringing their belongings onto Roach. “Hey girl,” Jaskier smiled stroking Roach’s muzzle. She huffed and nudged him gently. “She still remembers you,” Geralt grunted. “Yeah well I guess that’s what happens when you sneak her a ton of apples,” Jaskier joked, hiding how taken aback he was that Geralt was speaking to him. Recalling some of the things he said last night, a flush of shame ran through him. As Geralt finished saddling Roach up, he helped Ciri onto her before mounting the horse. With a light kick of his legs, Roach set of into a slow walk, with Jaskier following by her side. Thinking about the journey ahead, Jaskier suppressed a sigh. He hoped he hadn’t made a mistake.

As the sun rose high into the sky, bearing down on the already weary travellers, Jaskier suggested that they take a short break. Over the years, Jaskier had learnt his lesson and had decided to invest in some high quality shoes meant for hiking, so it wasn’t that the uneven ground was starting to bite into his feet painfully, or that he was starting to tire from walking. No, what was painful and tiring was the way Geralt stoically stared into the distance as Ciri and Jaskier chatted. It was rather hard to ignore as Geralt was sitting right behind Ciri. Normally Geralt ignoring Jaskier while he talked was a norm, but since they had such a devastating row the night before, it was starting to get awkward. 

Jaskier and Ciri helped Geralt to set up camp, hanging a sheet in between two trees to serve as a reprieve from the harsh sun, and laid a cloth beneath it for them to sit, while Geralt got a fire going. “I’m going to hunt for something for us to eat. You stay here and make sure nothing bad happens to Ciri,” Geralt said fixing Jaskier with a steely glare. “Of course I will,” Jaskier scoffed, offended he even had to ask. Geralt merely huffed in response before trudging off into the woods. 

“So what happened between you two?”

“Huh?” Jaskier was so unprepared for that question that he all he could do was gawp at her. “I’m not stupid. I know that you two used to travel together. You sang all those ballads about him to me remember? And when I asked Geralt about you I could see he recognised you. So what happened between you two? Why’d you suddenly become so uncomfortable around each other?” Ciri questioned, her eyes boring into him. “It’s... hard to explain,” Jaskier fumbled. “There was this witch -very scary, quite sexy too if i’m being honest- but she and Geralt had this whole thing, then a bunch of other things, long story short she broke his heart and Geralt blamed me for them ever meeting in the first place. “ Ciri stared at him curiously. “So your song, Her Sweet Kiss, it was about you, Geralt, and Yennefer?” Jaskier sputtered. “How- what- Did Geralt really tell you about Yennefer? I mean, of course he did he loves her, why wouldn’t he.” “Geralt didn’t tell me about her. I had a vision of her, or rather people looking for her, at Sodden Hill.” Jaskier sucked in a breath. So Yennefer was at Sodden Hill? He had heard a bunch of mages had protected Sodden Hill, he just never knew Yennefer would be one of them. “Was she found? What happened?” Ciri shook her head sadly. “She was just... gone.” Oh. Oh no. Despite himself, Jaskier felt a twinge of sadness at the loss of the mage. And oh how heartbroken Geralt must be. Despite how much he claimed to dislike the mage, over the years her presence had become something of a norm. No doubt thanks to Geralt’s wish. And the way she made Geralt happy, Jaskier could never hate her for that. Ah- the wish, explains why Ciri had a vision about Yennefer, she was linked to Geralt who was also linked to Ciri. A strange family of sorts tied together by destiny. It was at that moment of realisation that Jaskier felt the loneliest he had felt in a long time. Realising that he could never truly belong with either Geralt or Ciri -even with Yennefer gone- left him with a hollow ache in his chest.

He stared down at Ciri, saw the way her eyes had watered at the mention of Yennefer, and cursed destiny for taunting him with a friend, a family, only for it to never be his ultimately. Leaving him on the outside, a constant loner, always second choice. 

Jaskier was ready to spend the rest of the wait for Geralt in silence and self pity when he heard a strange rustling in the woods. Immediately, Jaskier was on high alert. He grabbed a dagger from a bag hanging on Roach and stood in front of Ciri, defending her from the seemingly imminent danger. Then, the noise stopped. Jaskier sighed in relief and was ready to put the dagger down, excusing the noise on a pair of over excited rabbits, when it burst forth from the trees.

It was gigantic, five meters tall, with a grotesque face covered in warts. It opened its mouth to reveal huge yellow rotted teeth, and roared, spraying spittle everywhere. Jaskier yelped, grabbing Ciri’s hand and dashing away from it. Considering how large the creature was, it was remarkable how fast it ran. It had absolutely no problem catching up to them and swiping them aside with one hand. Jaskier went flying and felt his head smash into something hard. Dazedly he looked around, ignoring the warm liquid dripping down his face. In his head, the words “Protect Ciri” repeated like a chant. Jaskier spotted Ciri. She was cornered, trapped between a tree, and the monster. Without thinking, Jaskier grabbed his dropped dagger and ran at the monster, slashing its legs. The diversion worked, a little too well. The creature let out a loud roar, so loud it shook the trees, and grabbed Jaskier off the ground. It brought Jaskier up to it’s eyes, inspecting him. “This is it isn’t it.” Jaskier sobbed to himself. “Sweet melitele I do hope somebody writes an amazing ballad about me.” 

But then, something strange happened, an indescribable noise cuts through the air, shrill and loud. Jaskier winced at the noise, but for the monster, it must have been excruciating as it immediately dropped Jaskier to protect it’s ears from the noise. When Jaskier hit the floor, he felt nothing. “Thank the gods,” he thought. But then a sharp pain shot through his leg, followed by a burn in his chest. He tried to take a deep breath to calm himself, but found that he couldn’t, only gurgling up blood. “Just like the djinn,” he thought to himself dazedly. Ciri was running towards him. She looked so scared. The poor thing. She held his head up, tears streaming down her her face. Jaskier saw the monster behind her, crawling off the ground, stomping towards them. “Ciri leave me. Please run,” he tried to say, but nothing cane out of his mouth. Jaskier wasn’t religious, but he prayed. He prayed to all the gods he knew. He even begged destiny to help them. “Destiny, you’re a bitch, but prove that you can be good. Save Ciri. Please.” But nothing happened. Jaskier felt himself slipping into darkness. So he focused his eyes on Ciri, wanting the last thing he saw to be of someone he loved. He felt a pang in his heart as he thought of Geralt. As he thought of how he would never get to tell Geralt he was sorry for what he said last night. How he could never look at those golden eyes again. How he could never see one of his rare smiles again. But then Ciri turned, facing the forest, the same indecipherable expression on her face as the one she had earlier that day. “Yennefer.”

The air grew thick, and as Jaskier tried to turn his head, it felt like trying to move through molasses. Then, the smell of lilac and gooseberries invaded his nostrils as the air in front of him rippled and warped. Then, out she stepped. She looked like shit, covered in a sheen of sweat, blood dripping down her face. “Fuck,” was the last thing Jaskier said before passing out.

Jaskier was so light, he felt as if he was flying. He could feel the wind rippling through his hair. But a strange dull pain nagged at him, he ignored it, instead deciding to focus on how carefree he felt. Like all the weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Then he noticed a hand, holding his. It was large, and calloused. It was comforting. He thought he could hear someone talking to him, but he chose not to listen, flying through the air, without a care in the world.

Jaskier felt so heavy. Like he was being weighed down by lead. Struggling, he lifted his head, his eyes forcing themselves open, scratchy as if someone poured sand into them. He looked around trying to recognise his surroundings but drew up blanks. He was in a lavish bed room, the canopy and curtains surrounding the bed were finished with extravagant god trimming. The bedside table beside the bed and the table at the far side of them room were made of expensive rosewood. Where the hell was he?

As if on cue, Yennefer strode into the room. No longer did she look battle worn, she was restored to her usual drop dead gorgeous state. “Jaskier how are you?” she questioned as she walked to his side, heels clicking on the wooden floor. “How the fuck are you alive?” Jaskier sputtered. Yennefer sneered at him, “I don’t know but let’s just assume it’s to do with that irritating wish Geralt made,” her red painted lips stretching in a look of disdain. She sat at the side of the bed before prodding him with a perfectly manicured index finger. When Jaskier stared at her questioningly, she explained “Cool so you don’t seem to be in pain anymore.” “Yeah thanks I noticed,” Jaskier replied sarcastically, stretching his whole body. “Anybody ever tell you you’ve got gray hairs now?” she asked pointing to the top of his head. Jaskier gasped, scandalized, and tried pulling his hair in front of his eyes to see if what she had said was the truth. 

“You should go to the dining hall. Your witcher’s waiting to see you. He’s been absolutely beside himself you know. Had to practically drag him from your side.” Jaskier laughed in disbelief. Since when had Geralt given a rats ass about him. Hell when Jaskier had been attacked by the djinn and was coughing up blood, all Geralt could muster was an insincere pat on the back and a half hearted “You’ll be fine.” 

Jaskier was right, destiny was a bitch, even when it was trying to be nice. Not that he was ungrateful to be alive, he was, it’s just that... Yennefer? Really? For fucks sake. Not that he wished she was dead either, he wasn’t that mean spirited, he had just thought that maybe, just maybe with her gone, he would be first choice for once. But clearly that chance had dived out the window. 

Swinging his legs off the side of the bed, he leaned some weight onto them, praying that Yennefer hadn’t poisoned him or something. When his legs didn’t give way, he felt confident enough to stand up and take a few slow, stuttering steps. Slowly but surely, he made his way downstairs to what he presumed was the dining hall. Of course that bitch of a witch didn’t give him directions. Turning the corner, he was satisfied with his accurate abilities of deduction as he was met with a grand mahogany dining table, lined with chairs, with a gigantic crystal chandelier glimmering above. He was so taken aback by the sight that greeted him that he almost missed the white haired witcher sitting at the chair closest to him. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt gasped, his voice scratchy from misuse. “Ah hello Geralt.” Jaskier tittered nervously, ”As you can see I’m good as new. Yennefer really did her magic once agai-“ And then Jaskier was enveloped in a tight hug. This was... new. Ten years of knowing each other and this was the first time they had shared a hug. Jaskier melted into Geralt embrace. If this is what almost dying got him, he should really do it more often. But alas, Geralt pulled away from him. He gripped Jaskier’s cheeks with both hands, studying his face, looking for injuries. Jaskier was so busy staring into his eyes that he hadn’t even noticed how close their faces had gotten until he felt Geralt’s breath brush his cheek. He stilled, all of a sudden aware of the fragile atmosphere in the room. If he leaned forward, just a few centimetres, he could capture Geralt’s lips in a kiss. He could do what he had been fantasising about for years. But before anything could happen, Geralt drew away, grunting in satisfaction from his inspection. “So uh where are we?” Jaskier asked, hiding his disappointment. “Somewhere near Kaedwen, which means we could reach Kaer Morhen in about a weeks ride.” Jaskier nodded mutely. That meant that his journey with Geralt and Ciri was coming to an end. Having no special destiny, as well as not being a witcher, he was sure his entry into Kaer Morhen was forbidden. An intrusive voice suddenly entered his head, saying “I’m sure Yennefer would be allowed in. After all she is a mage.” Jaskier was very quick to smother that voice. “Well when are we leaving?” Jaskier asked his voice unnaturally chipper. Geralt eyed him inquisitively. “I was thinking we could stay. At least for a night. After all you were gravely injured. And besides we’re not exactly in a rush.” “Oh. Y-yeah. Yeah that makes sense,” Jaskier stuttered. This was a... strange turn of events. Geralt giving a monkeys ass about him?? Not only that, but initiating intimate physical contact?? The world was going mad. 

Jaskier stared up at Geralt, a swell of emotions rising in him. The largest, namely love. Jaskier loved Geralt. 

Jaskier cleared his throat awkwardly, stepping away from Geralt, shattering the intimate atmosphere that had formed between them. “I should go see Ciri. Poor thing must be absolutely distraught,” Jaskier announced. To Jaskier’s extreme delight, a small chuckle left Geralt’s lips before he said, “She’s in her bedroom, come on I’ll take you to her,” before sweeping his arm towards the door, a grandiose mockery of Jaskier’s “gentlemanly” behaviour. Jaskier had to resist the urge to curtsy as he stepped out the door.

As they strolled down the corridors of the splendorous manor, Jaskier couldn’t help the curiosity piqued in him. “So uh... who’s house is this exactly?” “Yennefer’s. Though she absolutely refuses to mention how she acquired it. “ “Ah.” 

Arriving at a large oak door, Geralt rapped his knuckles against it twice. Almost instantly the door was flung open and two electric blue eyes fixed Jaskier with a steely glare. Immediately Geralt spun around, leaving Ciri and Jaskier alone. Jaskier gulped nervously.

“Why did you have to come save me? You should have run! You almost died!” Ciri yelled. “How could I have let you die! Ciri I care for you. You must know by now!” Jaskier shouted back. Ciri faltered. “Ciri... you realise I care for you... Right?” “Yes of course! It’s just... I expected you to say that you saved me because I had a great destiny. So many people have died for me already. So many people I love gone. And I don’t even know if they died because they loved me, or because of some prophecy.” Ciri slid down to the floor, defeated. Jaskier was appalled. This child was far too young for such thoughts to have entered her mind. For such a great burden to be thrust upon her. He quickly joined her on the floor, wrapping an arm around her. “Ciri you must believe me when I say this... But destiny can go take one up the bum.” Despite herself, Jaskier could see a smile stretch across her face. Chuckling lightly, Jaskier pulled her into a bone crushing hug, ignoring the way he heard her sob brokenly. “And besides, you saved me didn’t you. You were the one who created that noise.” Jaskier felt Ciri nod gently against his shoulder as she sniffled. “Thank you Ciri.”

She pulled away from him and smiled once more, the smile reaching her eyes this time. “So I noticed you and Geralt seemed friendlier. I hope you patched things up.” “Not quite,” Jaskier sighed, “But I have had a revelation. Now this is something that you can’t tell ANYONE. Promise?” Ciri eyed him suspiciously for a moment before giving him a curt nod. “I think I might love Geralt,” Jaskier sighed gazing out the window wistfully. “Yes I’m aware,” Ciri deadpanned. “You’re what.” “Dandelion come on its so obvious you two have a thing for each other,” Ciri groaned. “Geralt does not have a thing for me!” Jaskier sputtered. Ciri rolled her eyes. “Why can’t you just ask Geralt out or something?” “Are you insane? Of course I can’t! He’d probably just punch me because one, he’s not into me, two, he’s into someone else, and three, we just aren’t meant to be.” Ciri rolled her eye again, more violently this time. “Ok one, Geralt only has eyes for you and if you weren’t such a knob you’d see that, and two, what do you mean you’re not meant to be?” “Jaskier groaned, rubbing at his eyes in frustration. “Look it’s hard to explain. It’s just, there are so many people in his life that he is meant to be with. I’m never going to be able to compete with that. I mean, don’t get me wrong I’m glad you and Geralt found each other, but me and Geralt just aren’t written in the stars the way the three of you are.” 

Ciri shook her head sadly. “That’s not true. Of course you and Geralt belong together. Doesn’t matter whether or not it’s destiny. Like you said, destiny can take one up the bum.” “I know, it’s just hard to feel like any relationship we might have would work out, and that’s even assuming he wants one in the first place.” Ciri sighed, saying, “Of course he does. You’re just too stupid to realise.” It was at that moment that the pair were thankfully interrupted by the clacking of a pair of heels on the polished marble floor. Yennefer walked up to them, gazing questioningly at the two of them sitting slumped on the floor of the corridor. “Well hate to interrupt whatever is going on here, but dinners ready.”

Dinner was exceptionally awkward. Between the strange furtive glances exchanged between Yennefer and Ciri before they glared at Jaskier and Geralt, and the way Jaskier and Geralt would stare at each other, only to immediately look away once caught, the atmosphere was uncomfortable to say the least.

Jaskier was rather done for the day. Between almost dying, his realisation of his heart wrenching love for Geralt, and the words Ciri said bouncing around in his mind, Jaskier decided that he was in desperate need of a nap, lest a splitting headache start to form. “Well,” Jaskier proclaimed, standing up and stretching, “I think I’m going to call it a night. Yennefer the food was amazing, absolutely scrumptious so uhh thanks.” Jaskier made his exit with a dramatic bow as he exited the dining hall. So bone dead tired, he failed to realise Yennefer had stood up from the dining table and was following him silently, a frown creasing her otherwise unblemished features. 

Entering his room, he turned around to shut the door, only to come face to face with the raven haired sorceress. “Yennefer!” Jaskier yelped. “Gods you startled me!” “Apologies, that wasn’t my attention,” Yennefer said, her violet eyes piercing. She strode in, taking a seat on his bed. “Come on,” she invited, patting the spot next to her. Jaskier groaned inwardly. He never thought he’d see the day where talking would be a chore for him, but here they were. As Jaskier plopped himself unceremoniously next to her, Yennefer said, “Jsut to be clear in case there was any confusion, me and Geralt are no longer together. You should feel free to seduce him at any given moment, though given how besotted he is with you, I doubt much seduction would be required.” Jaskier blinked in surprise. That woman did not mince her words. “Did you and Ciri plan this? I swear no two people have ever been so invested in my love life before!” Jaskier accused. “Well maybe Ciri and I are just tired of the two of beating around the bush and causing unnecessary drama and awkwardness. Maybe we just want you two to stop being miserable sods. You ever think of that?” Yennefer fired back. Huh. Were they being this obvious? “So... you’re really ok with this? You really don’t love Geralt anymore?” Jaskier questioned. Yennefer smiled sadly. “I fear a part of me will always love him because of his wish. But not in a romantic way. To quote your poetic words, that ship has sailed, wrecked, and sunk to the bottom of the ocean.” Jaskier chuckled darkly, “I just suppose a part of me will always fear that even if he does love me back, he will leave me for you.” Reaching out a hand to clutch his arm, Yennefer tugged lightly, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “You don’t know this,” Yennefer stated, “But when the djinn attacked you, Geralt was absolutely beside himself. He was so desperate to make sure you were alright. And one thing he was so upset about, was that the last thing he had said to you was an insult. Something about... fillingless cake?” Yennefer grinned. “Pie. He said my singing was like fillingless pie.” 

Happy. Jaskier felt happy. Joy permeated every ounce of his being despite him doing his best to tamp down his elation. “It’s not that big of a deal.” He told himself. But it was. For so long, Jaskier was resigned himself to the fact that Geralt cared little for him. That Geralt placed a horse before him. But apparently, according to Yennefer, Geralt cared. It was such a basic thing, and Jaskier should not feel this excited, but he was. “Go to him,” Yennefer said, her eyes twinkling, and without being told twice Jaskier marched out of the room, previous exhaustion forgotten.

Geralt was exactly where Jaskier had last seen him, the dining hall, slowly nursing a mug of ale, humming quietly as Ciri chatted with him. “Geralt I think we should speak,” Jaskier announced, his previous bravado wavering slightly at the sight of Geralt. “Privately,” he clarified, clearing his throat as Geralt made no move to leave. “Perhaps we should go to your room,” Jaskier added, heart rate picking up at the implication of his statement. Geralt quirked an eyebrow at him, before turning to Ciri and asking, “Will you be alright here?” “Oh yeah I’ll be fine you two go on,” Ciri replied, shooing Geralt away, faking nonchalance. As the pair made their way back to Geralt’s room, Ciri smiled to herself.

Well now that they were here, Jaskier completely forgot everything he wanted to say. Luckily, he didn’t have to kickstart the conversation. “Jaskier I know no apology will be enough, but I am sorry. I have treated you badly over the years when you have done nothing but pay me in kindness. My life has become easier thanks to your ballads, and your companionship has brought a light to my life I didn’t think possible and I am sorry it took you almost dying for me to realise that.” Jaskier was absolutely speechless. “Wow Geralt. Uh. I think that’s the most amount of words I’ve heard you say ever. And that touch of poetry, you obviously learnt from the best,” Jaskier rambled. Geralt was staring at him with such an earnest look in his eyes, Jaskier’s heart did a little somersault. Before he could catch himself, or rethink his actions, Jaskier stepped forward, cupping Geralt’s face in his hands, and pulled him in for a kiss.

It was a lot more pleasant than he originally thought. While Geralt’s lips were chapped, they weren’t rough. Geralt’s lips were actually rather soft. Another unfair quality that Geralt possessed. Jaskier also kind of expected Geralt to taste of rotten flesh or something, not that he thought Geralt ate rotten meat or anything, it’s just that his job was so gruesome the association just sort of formed naturally. No, what Geralt tasted of was ale. Not exactly the most pleasant taste but, considering the alternative, he would take this any day. But then Geralt wrapped an arm around his waist and pulled him closer, and Jaskier’s mind went blank. Fireworks were going off in his chest. This, this was what everyone wrote about in poems and ballads. This was the kind of kiss that made you feel like you could fly and move mountains. Eventually though, they separated, much to Jaskier’s disappointment. Thankfully they did not go far from each other. Geralt cupped Jaskier face in his hands and said quietly, “I know you think our destinies aren’t intertwined, but think about it. You were the reason I met Yen, and you were the reason I was present to get Ciri as a child surprise. And think about how we always find our way back to each other.” “How-“ “I might’ve overheard you conversation with Ciri.” “Ah.” Geralt smiled down at Jaskier with so much love in his eyes that Jaskier thought he would burst. “You are important Jaskier, even if you don’t think so,” he said, using his thumb to smooth wrinkles at the corner of Jaskier’s eyes. Wrinkles he knows weren’t there when they first met. “Well as you’ve put up a very good argument, all things considered, I’ve decided to forgive you,” Jaskier said quietly, and he thought that the laughter Geralt responded with was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. 

The two lovers curled up on Geralt’s bed and fell asleep in each other’s arms, brimming with excitement over this new development in their relationship. And as the sun rose, the four of them packed their bags, ready to set out on their journey to Kaer Morhen. A bard stares at the sunrise, and the road before him. The journey that awaits him is long and uncertain, but as he gazes into the distance, he can see himself on a coast, with a grumpy white haired witcher by his side.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello this is my first fan fiction ever. The first proper story I’ve ever written actually. I hope you liked it and please feel free to comment ways for me to improve.


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